Renegade For Life
I’m Spectre: a dice-rolling dork, who owns way too many swords, plays way too many RPGs, and loves writing as a form of expression and way to decompress. I’m currently looking for a few new writing partners, and since you clicked on this thread, I’m assuming you are too.
At the moment, I’m itching to write a particular character and his entourage. Miyamoto, Ryusuke is the only son of Tokyo’s most infamous oyabun and heir to the largest yakuza crime syndicate in Japan. Rising within the city’s underground alongside his crew, Ryusuke is making a name for himself on the streets, and trying to step out of his father’s shadow.
Check out Ryu’s character sheet in the post after this one. I’ve also included a few plot ideas below, but feel free to pitch me your own!
Oh, and shall we see if we’d make a good match? Here’s what you can expect from me, and what I request in return:
- My minimum for a post is around 300 words, my max 1000+, depending on the scene and characters involved, and my average 500. Quality is more valued over quantity. I’m a strong supporter of posting what comes naturally to the scene.
- I write third-person, past tense.
- I promise at least a post a week, with the possibility of more. I will never pressure you for a post, and would appreciate the same courtesy. If you need a break, I understand. We can always come back to our story in the future, if it’s of interest to you.
- As I am getting further into my twenties, I am only open to writing with people 18 and over. It’s just a comfort thing, no offense to all the wonderful young writers out there!
- OOC communication is appreciated; please let me know if you’re not vibing with anything, and I’ll be happy to address it.
- Romance! I enjoy it. Give me some angst and some slow-burns, though our characters have to have chemistry.
- While I can (and enjoy!) write side characters of any and all genders, at the moment, I want to main males. To be honest, it’s a gender dysphoria thing.
- LGBTQ+ welcome! Most of my characters are pan, and open to any and all pairings.
- Preferably you’re open to darker themes. Please let me know your limits.
- Don’t let the lazy search thread fool you — I enjoying using code to make my posts look pretty. I’m also fine going old school.
NOTE: I am open to any ideas you might have. If you have a plot you think Ryu would work well for, just pitch it to me! Any of the below can also be altered to fit your cravings.
- Belly of the Beast
Ryusuke and your character used to date, but his increased involvement with his father’s syndicate strained their relationship, until it eventually broke. But now your character needs his help, and they have nowhere else to turn. Their friend / sister, who worked as a hostess, has disappeared, and the cops aren’t doing anything about it. Your character needs someone with underground connections to help find her; yet what they’re about to stick their noses into is another yakuza organization’s turf. The stakes are high.
- The Arrangement
Your character is a famous popstar / actress / ect., who tries to escape the limelight for a night by diving into a small, hole-in-the-wall bar. A fellow patron becomes pushy, not only refusing to take no for an answer, but getting suspicious of your character’s true identity, so she acts fast by grabbing the nearest male and proclaiming him to be her boyfriend.
The lucky guy just happens to be Ryusuke, and an off duty journalist takes pictures of the famous actress and her new yakuza boy toy.
The tabloids have a field day. Not wanting to fan the fires further with the truth coming out or a sudden break-up, your character gets Ryusuke to agree to fake a relationship with her, at least until the storm of bad press passes.
The outbreak happens within minutes; the city falls within hours. A virus causing the infected to turn into zombies — think All of Us are Dead — ravages Tokyo.
Our characters, a small group, are stuck together as everything crashes down. Maybe they’re strangers, or a group of friends with some secrets and recent bad blood; whatever the case, they happen to be in the same room, on ground zero, at the start of the end of the world. Whether if that room is a bar, apartment complex, or college campus — I’m open to any and all ideas.
Looking for someone willing to write multiple characters (I will be as well), and leaning toward our group knowing each other previously, with some recent drama between them that’s going to make relationships strained.
- Bad Blood
It started out as a one night stand: a single encounter to blow off steam, solace sought out for momentary reprieve within the city’s nightlife. Then they kept running into each other, like the universe was throwing them together.
They took the hint.
The relationship was going well. Sure, Ryusuke was a yakuza, and your character promised her over protective brother — also a yakuza; in fact, an oyabun himself — she’d stay away from criminals, but the rebellion was part of the appeal. They were like soulmates, or at least young adults, who watched too many dramas, that thought they were soulmates.
And then she met his family. A dinner he rather not have attended, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. She wished she had stayed at home.
Because she realized exactly who his father was: the man who killed her father, and the rival of her brother’s crime syndicate; the one he took over after their father’s death.
- // One ~ Ryusuke
Ryusuke’s throat rumbled with a low chuckle: a genuine sound of humor. Though he wouldn’t admit it — even under torture — he found her bravado-bearing barking, all while climbing onto his bike with the gusto of a wet, shivering cat, rather cute. At least she met his raise, which earned her a sliver of respect. Not that it meant much when it came to Miyamoto Ryusuke; he just had to keep upping the stakes until she folded.
”I haven’t killed anyone — yet.” His smirk was evident in his voice: a low, dangerous, and devilish tone. ”And the last pedestrian I ran over was on purpose.”
The engine thrummed to life, and with a rev, shattered the air around it. Retreat become impossible. Sliding into the street, Ryusuke took off like a hawk spreading wings. Asphalt disappeared underneath as quickly as the buildings on the horizon danced around them.
This was his element.
Wind licking his face and tousling his hair, the city he reveled in revealed with no inhibitions: the sounds, the sights, the scents all taken in at the speed of metal. Velocity making adrenaline purr underneath his skin to the rhythm of the engine. For a number of minutes he could mold into machine, cease to exist beyond the skyscrapers.
Never mind the wild animal clinging to his back he would have to deal with at the end of the road.
His original intent involved finding a bar and then gutter to climb into, but he hadn’t really expected her to come along for the ride. He wasn’t one much for plans anyways, and the new destination seemed fitting. If the signs weren’t a dead giveaway, the statues of animals they passed as they slowed were damnable.
Once they rolled to a stop and he shut the engine off, he slung one leg over to lean sideways against his bike, and reached to retrieve a cigarette from the jacket — his jacket — she wore. With the end blazing to life behind cupped hands and smoke drifting from his mouth, he looked at her with a shit-eating smirk that extended to his eyes.
”Want me to be a gentleman and walk you to your door?”
- // Two
Smoke curled from his lips in ethereal strands, phantom fingers reaching into the chilled night air, as Tokyo roared with vibrant, chaotic life beneath feet dangling outside an open window. With ash falling from his cigarette, cascading down the concrete complex, Ren peered past towering skyscrapers and a sea of metal darting across pulsing streets; seeking the blanket of black ocean in the sky, charcoal irises took in what few blotches of natural starlight remained, not drowned out by pollution. Even they, once superstitious omens and the realm of gods, were trapped behind the city's consuming glare.
Still too fucking long. He was in his last year of medical school, passing with flying colors, and still could only view himself as being halfway there. Next came the residency, then the specialty; at least another five years of endless, drudging work to be somewhere respectable. All while being imprisoned within the suffocating confines of neck ties, formality, fake smiles, and this damnable, decaying neighborhood.
The musings drifting through the waves of his mind were interrupted by a jarring collision with his front door.
Startled, Ren titled forward and his balance teetered, his life flashing before his eyes as the road below became a centimeter too near, the sensation of falling creeping up his skin; his pulse in his throat, he jutted out his hand to grasp the upper sill. His teeth gritted the cigarette before it disappeared into oblivion. It took a thundering heartbeat to realize he wasn't falling, yet his own trauma was interrupted by the frantic pleas outside his door. With an aggravated sigh, he leaned back and fell onto the floor with a thud.
"I'm coming. For fuck's sake, are you dying?" He groaned, as if this disturbance was as inconvenient as an apocalypse.
With frost weighing down his frozen heels, Ren rolled over, drug himself to his feet, and meandered to the front door, careful to preserve the ash-eaten remains of his cigarette. Grasping the handle, he jerked the door partially opened, the still intact chain maintaining the barrier between him and the source of the commotion:
A woman -- tattered, disheveled, and covered in blood, begging for mercy. Gods forgive him, but his brother would have let her in without hesitation.
But Ren was smarter.
With a quick glance over her skin, which was devoid of any laceration or other indication of injury, he summarized the blood wasn't hers. That meant she was either attempting to draw him out of safety for a robbery, or stabbed someone herself, neither of which he wanted to subject himself to. Smirking with his smoke between his teeth, he 'tsk'ed, before informing her of his verdict, "Oh, [love], your acting is shit. Try a few doors down. Maybe they'll be stupid enough to fall for this pathetic ruse."
Then the door slammed shut.
He was about to go back to his midnight perching, but a few moments after the short interaction, the building fire alarm blared overheard, the incessant siren making his head throb. After taking a last drag, he snuffed the cigarette out in an ash tray, grabbed his jacket, and stormed into the hallway, seeking out his suspected cause of the situation, since he smelled nor saw no fire around.
"What, are you going to rob me in public, now? Do you know who my brother is?"
If interested in any of the above, please send me a DM!